Chapter 166: CHAPTER 166

I got up.

No power, no magic, just Red and the body Edwina had spent weeks beating into shape. It would have to be enough.

He came at me again, jaws wide, going for my throat. I ducked low and drove my shoulder into his chest, using his momentum to flip him sideways. He hit the ground hard and I was on him before he could roll, teeth sinking into the back of his neck.

He bucked and thrashed, throwing me off with sheer size. I landed on my paws and we circled again, blood dripping from both of us into the dirt.

He feinted left and came right. I caught it too late and his jaws clamped down on my hind leg, shaking. The pain was white hot, something cracked, and a sound came out of me that I didn't recognize.

Red twisted and sank her teeth into his muzzle, puncturing the soft flesh around his nose. He shrieked and released. Blood poured from us both.

"Shift," Red growled. "He's stronger in this form. Take it to the ground."

I shifted and so did he, a heartbeat apart, both of us landing on human feet in the center of the circle. Naked, bleeding, panting.

We traded blows standing. Sloppy, exhausted, nothing pretty about it. I caught him in the throat with a straight punch that made him gag. He grabbed my hair and headbutted me. My eyebrow split open and blood poured into my left eye.

Half blind, I kicked his already buckling knee and it gave. He went down on one leg.

I hit him again. And again. Everything Jason and Stephan taught me about using speed against size, with Red whispering about where the soft spots were, I punched him harder.

He collapsed onto both knees. Arms barely up. That cocky face swollen beyond recognition.

"Yield," I panted, feeling a sense of victory climb my spine. "Walk away as a rogue. You get to keep your life, it's the only mercy I can give you.”

He spat blood at my feet.

"Forfeit Micheal. It's over."

He looked up at me through one swollen eye and laughed. Wet, ugly, bubbling.

"You wanna know how your daddy died?"

The clearing went quiet. Every wolf, every breath, gone.

"My father was there, you know. Watched the whole thing." He coughed, more blood. "The rogues we hired cornered him in the eastern woods. Cut off every escape route. He fought like hell, I'll give him that. Took three of them down before they got him on his knees."

"Stop talking."

"And my father walked up to him, right there in the dirt, and your daddy looked up at him with blood in his eyes and said please." He grinned, red teeth catching the light. "Please brother, don't do this. Brother. Like that word meant anything after we'd already paid for the hit."

My fists were shaking at my sides.

"He watched the life drain out of his eyes. Told me it took about forty five seconds. Said it felt longer because your father kept twitching even after his wolf gave up. You know what his last words were?"

"Shut your mouth!" I screamed, tears pouring down my muddy face.

"Tell Cassandra I'm sorry. That's what he said. Sorry. For what? For being too weak to protect his own family? For leaving you with nothing?"

Red was roaring in my head, my vision was tunnelling, every nerve in my body was on fire.

"And your mum, well that was easy. A car on a road. She didn't even see it coming. Quick and clean, didn't even have to shift for that one. My father said the funniest part was the sound she made right before impact. Like a gasp, like she knew for half a second what was about to happen but couldn't do a damn thing about it."

I was on him before the last word left his mouth.

My hands found his throat and I squeezed. Red poured everything into my grip. Every year in Marcus's basement. Every night dreaming of parents who would never come back. Every birthday spent hiding from a drunk man's fists instead of blowing out candles with a mother and father who loved me.

He clawed at my arms. Drew blood in long lines from my wrists to my elbows. Kicked at the dirt. His eyes bulged. His mouth opened and closed.

I didn't speak while actively ignoring the chaos happening behind me. There was nothing to say to him that mattered more than the silence of watching him realize he was going to die.

His kicks slowed.

His hands dropped, and his eyes stared at me, blank.

His body went limp.

I held on for three more seconds because Red needed to be sure. Then I let go and stood up and my legs nearly buckled but they held because they had to.

The clearing was silent.

I looked down at Micheal Junior's body and waited for something to hit me. Regret. Relief. Satisfaction.

All I felt was empty.

Then the bond screamed.

Hunter's end exploded with terror so sharp it cut through the emptiness like a knife. I turned and Micheal Senior was already there, three feet away, blade raised, tears and madness in his eyes.

My body was done. My leg buckled when I tried to dodge and I stumbled sideways. The blade caught my arm, a line of fire from shoulder to elbow, and I hit the ground.

He stood over me, raised the blade again, screaming his son's name.

It came down.

And stopped.

Hunter's hand around Senior's wrist. His other hand on the throat. For one frozen second they were a painting, the blade inches from my chest, Hunter's face carved from stone.

Then the wrist snapped. Then the neck. Two sounds almost on top of each other.

Micheal senior dropped beside his son.

Hunter was on his knees next to me before the body settled, his hands finding the wound on my arm, pressing down.

"I'm fine," I said, because that's what my mouth does when my body is falling apart. I've had years of practice.

"Baby, look at me.”

It was a command wrapped with… a lot of unspoken words.

I looked at him. His eyes weren't panicked. They were steady, warm, waiting for me to stop performing and just be honest with him.

Something in my chest unclenched.

"It hurts," I exhaled shakily.

"I know. Let me see it."

I moved my hand from the wound and let him look. Let him press his shirt against it. Let him wrap me in clothes that covered my nakedness.

In the middle of the battle, none of that mattered, but now with two dead bodies next to me, I felt everything magnified.

"You did it," he said quietly.

"I killed my cousin."

"You took back what was yours."

"Same thing."

"No it's not. And you know that."

His mother's wail cut through everything. Raw, broken, the sound of a woman who just lost her son and husband in the same five minutes. Wolves were holding her back from the bodies.

I let Hunter help me to my feet. He kept his arm around my waist, not hiding that he was holding me up. I didn't care who saw. I was done pretending.

I faced the Full Moon wolves. My wolves now. Hundreds of faces staring at a bleeding woman standing over two dead men.

"My name is Cassandra Harrison. Daughter of Cane and Adira. This Pack was built by my family. It was stolen from us. I've taken it back." I swallowed, tasting blood. "A war is coming. Zyrell will enslave every wolf alive if we don't stand together. I know you have no reason to trust me. I know what today looked like. But give me a chance and I'll give you reasons."

Knees hit the ground. One by one. Some fast, some reluctant. Not all of them. But enough.

I turned to Hunter.

"I need to go inside."

He searched my face for a second, then nodded.

"I'll handle things out here. Take your time."

I walked into the Pack house alone. Wolves pressed against walls as I passed, eyes wide, clearing a path for the woman dripping blood on their floors. Up the stairs, one agonizing step at a time, my leg screaming, my arm soaking through Hunter's shirt.

The door at the end of the hallway. The Alpha's room.

My parents' room.